


because of what will be (the future of her own making remix)

by pocky_slash



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Remix, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 00:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocky_slash/pseuds/pocky_slash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the things Raven expected Erik to be brooding about, his late wife certainly wasn't one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	because of what will be (the future of her own making remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scribblemyname](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemyname/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Because of What Used to Be](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/22213) by scribblemyname. 



Erik is drinking when she finds him, sipping something amber from a heavy, ornate glass that once belonged to Kurt. She thinks he doesn't see her at first and she stands in the doorway, watching him, unsure if she should bolt or take her chance to study him.

"Sit if you're going to sit," he finally says, and Raven suppresses her embarrassment of getting caught and crosses the room with confidence and poise, taking the armchair that customarily holds her brother. She sits like she thinks an adult woman would sit, the way she's seen Moira sit, the way she's seen women in pubs and coffee shops and restaurants sit. The way Sharon used to sit at the dinner table, when she deigned to join them. If Erik notices, he doesn't say. He's staring into the fire. He barely looks at her.

"If this is about your fight with Charles," she says, and he snorts without looking away from the flames.

"Not everything is about Charles," he says.

"Everything _you_ do is about Charles," she says. "And everything he does is about _you_." She doesn't say, _And it makes the rest of us feel like we're in your orbit, some cold, forgotten moons_ , which she thinks means she's getting more mature. She would have said it to Charles six months ago. Hell, she'd probably still say it to Charles now, because being around Charles makes Raven feel like she'll never grow up.

"That's not true," Erik says, but after a moment of heavy silence he concedes, "It's true this time, though."

"He says stupid things about the people he cares about," she says. She reminds herself of that fact daily. Every time some thoughtless comment comes out of his mouth, immediately followed by shame and apology, she reminds herself that Charles loves her and she loves Charles and he wants what's best for her and one day he'll _have_ to see that she's an adult now. Or very nearly an adult. Erik could use reminding of the fact as well, it seems, because Charles certainly cares about Erik. More than he should, maybe. 

"You think he cares about me?" Erik asks. He turns finally to look at her. There's something in his eyes she can't decipher. Whatever it is, it's sad and dark and lonely. She shivers and commits the expression to memory. It might be useful in the future.

"I know he does," she says. "It's obvious. Or maybe it just seems obvious to me after spending eleven years attached at the hip. You should go for it. If you want to, I mean. I know he wants you to."

"And what if I want him to do it?" Erik asks her. "What if I need him to take the leap? What if I'm too tired to have that faith any longer?"

Raven wants to say, _Then you're not alone._ For eleven years, Charles has been promising her it will get better. It really hasn't. And then it did and then Shaw showed up out of nowhere and killed Darwin and took Angel and the CIA did _nothing_ and--

He's not the only one whose faith has been shaken, these days. She can't say that, though. She can't compare herself to him. She knows what he's been through.

She wishes she had a drink to sip. Instead, she twists her fingers together and looks at her lap and doesn't tell him she doesn't know what to believe and doesn't tell him her brother walks around on eggshells because he's afraid of what will happen if he tries to love someone who doesn't love him back and his mind forces them to do it anyway.

Erik turns back to look at the fire. The movement flickers in the corner of Raven's eyes and the springs of his chair creak.

"I was married, once," he says.

Raven freezes.

She's careful not to move, not to let her expression change, not to make a noise. She doesn't want to ruin this with childish shock or an exclamation of disbelief that might be taken the wrong way. Instead, she composes herself in her head, keeps herself still and poised, and wonders if Charles knows this. If he doesn't, what does it mean that Erik has chosen to share it with her?

"Were you?" she finally says. "Did she--is she--?" Dead? Gone? Waiting for Erik to come home in a flat somewhere on the other side of the Atlantic?

"She died," Erik says. His voice is flat. Emotionless. She wonders if he trained himself out of showing his true feelings. She wonders if he can teach her how to manage that. "She and our child died in a fire. It was my fault. I thought I could have a life. I thought I could put aside the need for revenge if she wanted it enough. I thought I could be what she needed. I couldn't, of course. I couldn't hide my true nature, this anger that burns everything it touches. It burned her. All that was left of the life I built was ash. I promised myself it would never happen again."

_Child_. Erik has-- _had_ \--a child. A wife. A life outside of chasing Shaw, outside of the family that Charles is trying to bind together.

"I'm sorry," she says, because it's all she can think to say.

"You can't be anything but what you are," Erik says to her. He finishes what's left in his glass and then places it on the table between their chairs before getting to his feet. "No matter who's asking and how badly they want it. No matter how badly you want to be what they need. You can only follow your own path. Anything else ends in ruin. I can't let that happen to your brother. I won't let it happen again."

He leaves without looking back at her, leaves her sitting in front of the fire, still stunned motionless by his revelation. It's horrible and frightening and--sad. Sad for Erik, who's lost so much, but sad for Charles, too, who wanted this so badly. Too badly, maybe. Charles could stand to learn a few things about being yourself rather than what other people want and expect.

She could as well, she realizes as she stands to return to whatever common area the others have holed away in. She automatically slips back into her pretty blonde skin and has to stop for a moment and look down at her pink hands. 

She doesn't know who she wants to be. She doesn't know who she should be. She doesn't even know who she wants to please anymore. There's a world of possibility at her feet--she could literally be anyone she chooses, except, maybe, for herself.

_You can't be anything but what you are,_ Erik said. She doesn't know what she is, except for good at being what other people need. Maybe it's time to figure that out.

She slides back into her true form and leaves to find the others.


End file.
